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Sky to Gold	By : BlackberryPatch Category: Gundam Wing/AC > Yaoi - Male/Male > Treize/Zechs Views: 3801 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing/AC, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-One
- 2-Two
- 3-Three
- 4-Four
- 5-Five
- 6-Six
- 2
- 3
- 4
3

When he woke after that first night, Zechs sleeping softly in his arms, Treize felt content for the first time in a long while. When it happened again the next night, he figured he must be in heaven.

He lay for awhile watching the man sleep and contemplated the inherent contradiction that was Zechs. He was a slave, but he carried himself with the air of someone who expected to be obeyed. He called Treize master, but proved to be the more aggressive of the pair in bed. He prostrate himself before Treize yet constantly defied him, brazenly so when he thought he could get away with it, yet apparently lived in abject fear of Dorothy Catalonia. Treize wondered what Dermail had done to Zechs. He couldn't even imagine something so horrible that it would cause such fear in another human being.
The body beside him began to stir, Zechs turning and smiling blearily up at him. Treize returned the smile; he'd wanted to wait until Zech woke up yesterday before he left the room, but the man had seemed intent on sleeping the day away. Finally Treize's fears that Zechs had only initiated the contact of the previous night out of fear, rather than attraction, had driven him out of the bedroom. It was just his rotten luck that that Catalonia woman had pounced on him practically the moment he got downstairs.
There was a soft knock at the door. Zechs glanced over apprehensively, but Treize squeezed his shoulder reassuringly. "Come in, Otto," he said.
The door opened slightly and Otto's head popped into the room. "Breakfast is on the table sir," he said. Treize might have been hallucinating, but he thought he saw Otto wink at Zechs. He glanced at the man lying next to him, with his chin resting on Treize's chest shooting Otto a possessive glare, and managed to catch Zechs returning the wink. Was there some sort of conspiracy going on here? "Thank you, Otto. That will be all."
"Yes sir." Otto left them, ducking back out the door.
Zechs made as if to rise from the bed, but Treize grabbed him by the chin and forced Zechs to look at him. Zechs expression went from surprise to subservience almost faster than he could drop his eyes from where they had automatically met Treize's gaze. "Master?" he asked quietly.
Treize shook him before releasing him. "Stop that," he said shortly, then pulled his robe up from beside the bed and went into the study without looking back.
What is his problem? What is he hiding? Why is he still hiding it from me? Treize picked up one of the cups of hot tea from the tray on the table and went to the window to look out. It bothered him that Zechs' apparent duplicity irked him so much. But he couldn't help the fact that he found the other man fascinating. The very deception that annoyed Treize drew him irresistibly. A sound behind him made him turn.
Zechs had entered the room; he wore the shirt and pants of the previous day, and though his eyes flickered regretfully over the breakfast tray they were set with determination, and he came and knelt before Treize.
"Stop that," Treize whispered, unable to bear it any longer. "I can't stand lies. Not from you..."
When Zechs spoke, his voice was strong, and not the least bit subservient. "I kneel before you not as a slave to a master, but in thanks to the man who saved my life." He looked up, meeting Treize's eyes, and stood. "I can't... I can't tell you," he glanced away, "what it means to me to be free of that hell. You," he looked back at Treize, "you gave me that chance. For that I will be forever grateful."
Treize's eyes widen in surprise at the beginning of Zechs speech, but he nodded in acknowledgement of Zechs statement. "If there is any way I can help you..." He whispered the words, trailing off, and he found that it hurt him to say them. To offer to help Zechs leave... Don't leave.
"Thank you," Zechs accepted the offer. He turned then, to leave the room, saying over his shoulder as he went out, "I will ask Otto if he has any duties for me today." And with that he was gone.
Treize stared after him. Taking the teacup he held, he set it down carefully on a table then sat himself down in a chair. His hands curled into fists. What the hell!? What was Zechs' game that he was still playing?
The rest of breakfast forgotten, he dressed hurriedly and went in search of Zechs. He found Otto, who told him a list of things that he had asked Zechs to do, but as much as he searched the house Treize couldn't seem to find the slave; he'd seemed to have picked up Otto's habit of being able to disappear and appear randomly about the house in his short time here. Treize's anger rose.
"Sir?" He glanced over to see Otto trying to get his attention.
"What is it?" he snapped. When Otto merely looked at him, he sighed and rubbed at his temples. I'm sorry Otto, I... I have something on my mind and its put me in a bad mood, but that's no reason to be snapping at you."
"Is there someone you would like to be snapping at sir?"
Treize glanced up in surprise; Otto's tone was downright frosty. "No, no." He narrowed his eyes a little; Otto knew who he was looking for. "Not snap. I... I want to talk to him." He frowned. "Preferably in a situation where he can't evade me again."
Otto's gaze softened. "Young Mister Zechs is in the dining room."
"Thank you Otto." And there was another piece to add to the mystery- Otto, stickler for propriety, had addressed Zechs as "Mister" or "Sir" the entire time he had been here. Otto was seeing something that the rest of the world was missing- the same thing that Treize had been seeing in his bed the past two nights.
He slipped in the kitchen side door of the dining room and quietly locked it behind him. Zechs was standing at the table polishing the silver. He had heard the noise behind him and tensed; gripping a table knife in his fist, he whirled to face Treize. Seeing who it was who had snuck up on him, he relaxed. Slightly. He didn't say anything, merely watched Treize warily.
"We need to talk." Zechs continued to watch him warily and backed away without thinking when Treize took a step toward him. Stunned, Treize halted. "No. I don't..." He shook his head and turned away from Zechs. "That's not what I want. I want to talk to you; to understand you. You are the most infuriating contradiction,,," He trailed off.
"I'm sorry," Treize heard the younger man whisper. He turned back and looked at Zechs. The younger man was staring at the table, the knife still clenched in his hand, and for the first time he truly looked young. "I was... thinking while I worked, and... my thoughts are not pleasant company."
Treize reached out a hand toward him, his face a mask of sorrow. "Please, Zechs let me help you," He touched Zechs' shoulder, unsure whether he should offer him comfort.
Zechs gave Treize a long, measured look. "Why did you lie to Dorothy?"
Treize blinked. That was a non sequitur... "What?"
"You told me you didn't like lies, but you lied to Dorothy about me."
"Ah." Treize smiled. "No I didn't."
Zechs shot him a look. "You lied to her. I was listening."
Treize shook his head. "I did not lie," he repeated, fixing his eyes on Zechs'. "She described a slave to me, a shivering, miserable wretch of a man. It was no one I had ever seen before." He touched a hand to Zechs' cheek. "Definitely not the man who's been sharing my bed these past nights."
Zechs blushed slightly; ducking his eyes for a moment he raised them to meet Treize's. He looked at Treize for a long moment. "You say that I am a contradiction, but it is you who are everything that you shouldn't be." His voice dropped to a whisper. "Everything about you makes me want you, want to give you everything of myself. It defies everything I've learned, every defense I've raised to keep myself from feeling what I feel now. I..." He tilted his head back slightly; he looked as if he wanted to kiss Treize, but still wasn't sure of taking the liberty. "I can't believe I'm saying this or that I feel this." He shook his head, though what he was denying Treize couldn't tell, and reached his hand up behind Treize's head and pulled the man close to him, kissing him forcefully. Treize sighed into the kiss; once again Zechs expressed a contradiction of dominance and submission.
"Well, well, well," said a voice.
Zechs' entire body went rigid. Treize pulled back; catching a glimpse of Zechs face he could see it frozen in a mask of fear. He glanced behind Zechs and his own lip curled in distaste. "Dermail. What are you doing in my house?"
"I've come to collect what is mine."
Zechs closed his eyes and started shaking uncontrollably. Treize scowled; grabbing Zechs' wrist he pulled the other man behind him so that Treize was between him and Dermail. "There is nothing here that is yours."
"Oh?" Dermail advanced on them. "I beg to differ, Kushrenada. That's my slave you have there behind you, and I want him back."
"No." Treize's grip tightened on Zechs' wrist.
Dermail's lips pulled back to bare his teeth as he took another step forward. "You will give him back. Right. Now."
Treize was about to make a reply when Zechs beat him to it.
Darting out from behind Treize, Zechs hefted the half-forgotten table knife, still clenched in his fist, and plunged it into Dermail's chest. With a feral snarl, Zechs twisted the knife, pushing it in to the hilt. Dermail's eyes went wide with shock; he grabbed feebly at Zechs, gasping for air. Zechs pulled the knife out and plunged it into Dermail's neck, neatly severing wind pipe and vocal chords. He pushed the quivering body to the ground and stood there, breathing heavily.
Treize could only stare at him. A detached part of his mind recognized another detail to add to the profile he was creating about who Zechs really was- he'd been instructed in killing. But the larger part of him was thinking about something else entirely. "Zechs," he called.
Zechs looked up at him, as if startled to see him standing there.
"Zechs, give me the knife." Treize held out his hand.
Zechs glanced at him, uncomprehending, and held the knife out to him. Suddenly he gasped, a hand flying to his throat, as he looked at the blood-covered knife in his other hand. Touching the metal band at his throat, he turned wide eyes on Treize.
Treize swallowed. If a slave killed someone, anyone, the penalty was death. No exceptions. "Give me the knife, Zechs."
Zechs handed the knife to him and fell to his knees before Treize. "I..." he stammered, but was interrupted.
The main door to the dining room, which Dermail had entered by, opened again. Zechs flinched at the noise, dropping his eyes to the floor and shivering.
Otto peered around the door, glancing in. "Oh my," he said, taking in the scene.
"Otto," Treize said, his voice calm, his eyes on Zechs' bowed head. "Please notify anyone who needs to know that Lord Dermail entered my house, I am assuming without invitation or you would have announced him to me, with intent to steal. I killed him." He raised his eyes and looked straight in Otto's face, but he heard Zechs gasp. "He attacked me and I responded; unfortunately, that resulted in his death. Please see to it that the body is disposed of properly and the room cleaned up."
"Yes sir," Otto responded crisply, nodding sharply.
Treize nodded to him. "I will be upstairs." He pulled Zechs to his feet. Zechs was still gazing at him, stunned. Gently, he led the other man from the room.
Once upstairs, he gently shook Zechs. "Zechs, snap out of it." He looked at him worriedly, but Zechs blinked and focused eyes on Treize's face.
"Why?" he asked. "Why did you lie for me?" He brushed Treize's hands away, jumping to his feet and pacing back and forth. "You're doing it again- being inconsistent. Why? What do you want from me!?"
Treize grabbed him by the shoulders. "Zechs, calm down! Sit." He pushed Zechs into a chair. "Zechs." The younger man looked up at him; still breathing heavily, he held his hands in front of him as if he could not bear to let them accidentally brush against anything or as if he could not tear his eyes from the redness that covered them. "Zechs, do you want to die?"
Zechs glanced at him sharply. "No." The syllable left his lips like a breath more than a word, a secret desire.
"Then why do you ask me these questions?" Treize's grip tightened on Zechs' shoulders. "You killed him. I don't know what the bastard did to you, but I know he deserved it. You do not deserve to die for it."
Zechs shuddered, the last of the adrenaline rush leaving his system, and sagged against Treize. Treize stroked his hair. "Come on then, let's get you cleaned up." He guided Zechs to his feet and led him slowly to the bathing room.
Treize expected to find some cold water left in one of the basins, but he was surprised to find fresh, warm water filling the tubs. Two of the servants ducked in with the last couple buckets. They bobbed their head at Treize, in a sort of half bow, half nod. "We thought you'd be wanting to clean up sir," the first one said.
Treize smiled. "Yes, thank you, Howard." The pair both bobbed their heads again and slipped out, leaving him alone with Zechs.
Leading Zechs over to one of the smaller basins raised up on a pedestal, he pushed the younger man's hands into the water and rubbed them gently with his own. With the friction and the warm water, most of the blood came off. Treize used the bar of hard soap next to the basin to scrub Zechs' hands more thoroughly. Some time through the procedure, Zechs roused himself and, pulling his hands out from Treize's grip, washed them himself. Done, he looked down at them. Treize watched him carefully, but Zechs' face was blank. Slowly he raised his head and let his hands drop. A shudder ran through him.
"Zechs," Treize said softly. It took a moment for the younger man to respond. He turned to look at Treize, his face still blank. Disturbed, Treize reached out a hand and touched Zechs' face, trailing fingers across his brow and temple to cup his cheek. Zechs' expression softened, life returning to his features. He turned into the caress, his lips brushing across Treize's palm. "Mmm, that's better," Treize said, taking Zechs' face firmly between his hands and gazing into his eyes. "Are you alright?"
Zechs nodded, slowly but firmly. "Yes. I... It's something of a shock. To know he's dead." He stared into Treize's eyes. "There are things... but I'm not sure they've changed, even now. I... I'll have to think about it."
"Whatever you need," Treize whispered, touching his lips against Zechs' softly. He drew back slightly, then gasped for breath as Zechs suddenly pressed his own lips forward, fiercely griping Treize's shoulders to keep the other man still. Far from backing away, Treize leaned into the contact.
Zechs abruptly broke off the kiss. He took a step back from Treize, shaking uncontrollably. "I'm sorry. I..."
"Shhh." Treize stepped over to him and loosely held him on his feet. "Relax. Here, wash." His hands slipped under Zechs' shirt and pulled the garment from his body. Treize shivered with joy when the movement elicited no protest, or even an involuntary flinch, whatsoever from the younger man. He stripped Zechs' pants from him as well and, lifting the man up bodily, lowered him into the large basin for bathing.
Zechs sighed softly as he lay back in the warm water. Treize, shedding his own shirt, moved behind him and started working soap into his hair. Zechs' eyes slid closed and he leaned into Treize's kneading fingers. Treize smiled softly; this was the Zechs he loved. The one who acted as though he owned the world, as if Treize serving him was right and proper. The one who held up none of the barriers that usually came between him and everyone else.
Wait, had he just said love?
Well.
He supposed he had. Treize smiled again, down at the mess of gold his fingers worked through. Yes. I do believe I love him. How's that for a revelation? He wondered, briefly, how Zechs felt. Not that it would matter much. Treize was going to help him find whatever his life had been before he became a slave. If that was what Zechs wanted, that was what Zechs was going to get. And Treize would be damned if he was going to let some moronic bastard like Dermail ruin his plans.
Zechs' hair washed, Treize moved his hands lightly to the younger man's shoulders. Zechs tensed slightly at first, surprised, but soon relaxed into the touch as Treize massaged his shoulders and back.
His hands moved lower, across Zechs' back. Zechs leaned forward, allowing Treize to reach the lower part of his back, moaning in appreciation as his tense muscles relaxed. Having reached the bottom, No pun intended, Treize slipped his hands around to the front and worked them up over Zechs' chest causing the man to lean back again. Treize buried his face in the damp junction of Zechs' neck and shoulder and he felt Zechs reach hands up behind him and work them through Treize's hair. Treize's hands slid up over Zechs' chest, brushing over his nipples, one pausing and returning to caress that sensitive area while the other traced its way back down over Zechs' stomach and lower.
The fingers in Treize's hair tightened as Zechs' arched into the exploratory touches. Treize smiled against the younger man's neck as his own fingers flicked through the water to stroke against Zechs' length, the flesh hardening under his touch. Zechs turned his head, his breath ghosting over Treize's ear, and the older man shivered when he heard Zechs breathe his name. Zechs tried to pull him closer, seemed to realize that their positions weren't quite compatible with that action, and started to turn around. Treize stopped him. Standing, he shed the rest of his clothing and, coming around in front of Zechs, stepped into the basin and lowered himself into the water until he was straddling Zechs. Leaning forward, he kissed Zechs' mouth, smiling when Zechs kissed him back vigorously. His hand resumed its stroking of Zechs' length, but this time Zechs returned the favor, letting his own fingers explore Treize's body.
Zechs leaned up out of the water, almost unconsciously, to get closer to Treize, trying to also kneel so that he could press himself against Treize. However, the basin wasn't large enough for him to accomplish this the way he was situated, so he turned around, sliding his legs back alongside of Treize's and pressing his back against Treize's chest. He leaned his head on Treize's shoulder and reached his hands behind him to run fingers lightly over Treize's thighs.
Treize grinned, and kissed his way down Zechs' neck. Gathering Zechs' hair in his hand, he tossed it over his shoulder, so that it fell across both of them and down Treize's back as he pressed his chest against the man in front of him. His hands, on Zechs' thighs, pulled the other man closer against him, one hand slipping underneath Zechs' body in search of his opening. Finding it, he slid a finger inside. Zechs' shivered and leaned forward allowing Treize clearer access, his hair falling around his face as he bent forward and gripped the edge of the basin.
His other hand tracing a distracting pattern over Zechs' spine, Treize's fingers worked quickly to stretch Zechs' in preparation. He didn't want to wait any longer than he had to before he was inside of the beautiful man moaning in pleasure beneath him. Pressing a kiss to Zechs' shoulder, he snapped his hips against the other man, sheathing himself inside of him. Zechs' head came up as he moaned and his hands tightened their grip on the basin.
Running his hands along the planes of Zechs' body, Treize leaned forward until his body was perfectly aligned with Zechs'. Their bodies rested together, their legs lay parallel, his arms stretched alongside of Zechs' until his hands covered the younger man's, their fingers momentarily intertwining, and Treize breathed against Zechs' neck. But Treize's fingers could not remain motionless for long. One hand drifted underneath Zechs' body, brushing over his chest, and the other pushed his hair from where it hung around his face so that Treize could kiss his ear and trail more kisses down his jaw. Zechs turned toward him, his eyes half lidded. Treize's fingers traced lightly over Zechs' features as he began to move against him.
Treize's other hand, after toying with Zechs' nipples, drifted down and began to pull at his length. Slowly, languorously, Treize thrust into the man beneath him, feeling the warmth of Zechs' body, both from inside and rising from his skin as his muscles trembled with exertion and anticipation.
Starting out slow, Treize's motions soon began to pick up the pace as his desire rose within him. His weight shifted; rather than draping himself along Zechs' body, he took his weight onto one of his own hands. He kissed his way down Zechs' spine as the hand wrapped around Zechs' length began to pump more vigorously. Zechs moaned, rocking between Treize's touch and the feeling of Treize behind him, inside of him.
Ecstasy built inside of Treize, slowly- ever slowly, but ever growing- until it reached the point where his body could not contain it any longer and it had to come bursting out.
He gasped softly, breathing Zechs' name against the back of his neck, his face against Zechs' shoulder, as his body stiffened then relaxed. He felt Zechs' release take him as well as the smooth skin under his cheek tensed and quivered.
The water had gone tepid around them. Treize rose, pulling Zechs up with him, and they stepped out of the basin. Picking up a towel from where they lay in a pile, Treize threw it around Zechs and grabbed another one for himself. They dried themselves reasonably well, and Treize lead a tired Zechs into the bedroom by the hand. Pausing beside the bed, he looked up into Zechs' eyes and smiled softly. Zechs smiled back, kissing him lightly on the lips before slipping into the bed.
It had been a long day, though less emotionally distressing for him than for Zechs. Treize slid under the covers beside Zechs and was asleep almost before his arm went around the younger man.

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Sky to Gold